


Leave It All Behind

by psychoticfire (orphan_account)



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cards Against Humanity, Fights, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Japan, Post-Canon, Spy AU (kind of), based off a tumblr au i once saw but i don't know where it is now so, his friends get taken instead of him, is that a valid tag, it actually isn't relevant, jeremy gets targeted because of the squip, kind of, michael gets punched and some others gets hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 22:03:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17312657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/psychoticfire
Summary: post-canon au where jere gets targeted for his involvement w the squips, his friends get accidentally attacked along w him, and michael makes some split-second hard decisions in order to save his best friend.--“About time,” the man said. He didn’t put away his gun. “You can go stand next to your little friends. Now, I’ll ask one last time before someone gets hurt. Which one of you is Jerem-”“I am,” Michael said. Jeremy’s body tensed- it felt like a jolt of electricity down his spine, ten times worse than anything the SQUIP could have done to him. His breaths were shallow, and he curled up in on himself.Don’t do this, Michael. Please.--inspired by an au idea from tumblr blog@i-used-to-wear-the-fedora-- they have REALLY cool ideas and posts so go check them out!





	Leave It All Behind

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from the song [leave it all behind from cult to follow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wNH3UVpYSSs)

“Alright. ‘Why yes, I defeated…” Jeremy glanced at a couple of white cards and read, “Gandhi. How, you ask?”

Rich snickered as the blond picked up the second card and, trying and failing to conceal his laughter, read, “the Jews.”

The teenagers were gathered in Jeremy’s room, huddled over a game of Cards Against Humanity. They were an unlikely group- the school jock, the hottest girls, the gossip girl, the two nerds- but after the entire incident with the SQUIPs at the play, they’d begun to hang out together.

It was Jeremy who had proposed a game night for all of them. They’d all agreed, and once the entire squad had arrived at his house, refreshments ready- although Christine had declined a drink- and snacks prepared, both Chloe and Jake had wanted to play Cards Against Humanity. So now, they were.

The room erupted in laughter as Jeremy finished reading the card, Brooke almost choking on her spit and Michael throwing his head back, trying to catch his breath. Jeremy laughed, placing the cards down. “This one wins.”

“Hell _yeah_ ,” Rich said, grabbing the black card. “Mine!”

“Isn’t that a bit offensive, though?” Christine asked.

“Yeah, well, not as offensive as the gays and Auschwitz one,” Chloe pointed out, sitting to the side. She'd declined to play, but was enjoying watching them argue and joke. “Point of this game is to make us terrible people.”

“Besides,” Michael said, still breathless from laughing, “I’m gay, so on behalf of the homosexuals, I say it’s fine.”

Jeremy snorted. “Definitely how justice and redemption works.”

“None of that had _any_ connection with justice or redemp-”

And that’s when they heard it.

A loud battering sound coming from downstairs. Someone was knocking- or more accurately, slamming their fist into Jeremy’s front door, and they weren’t stopping. It was an almost unnerving, incessant rhythm of _knock. Knock. Knock._

The people upstairs exchanged glances. “Is anyone expecting something?” Jeremy asked, a bit uneasily. Everyone shook their heads.

“Check out the window,” Jake suggested. The knocks only increased in volume, the sharp sound traveling clear even upstairs. “Discreetly.”

Michael got up, walking towards the window, which had its blinds down. He lifted it a bit and peeked through the crack. When he turned back, his face was worried. “Black SUV. Shit’s out of fucking Leviathan.”

“Who’s knocking?” Jeremy rose to his feet, and so did the others. None of them looked even remotely relaxed at this point.

“Dude wearing a black suit. Like I said, Leviathan.”

“Should I…” Before Jeremy could suggest that he go and answer the door, a loud sound shot through the room, and undoubtedly rang clear through the house. He jumped, and Jenna yelped, dropping her phone.

It had sounded like-

“Was that a _gunshot?”_ Rich demanded. His face was pale. Next to him, Jake was breathing fast, and on his right was a shocked Brooke. “Was that a fucking gunshot?”

Jeremy glanced at Michael, who met his gaze. “Everyone hide,” said the Filipino boy, looking around the room, meeting the terrified gazes of his friends. “Anywhere, just don’t go downstairs.”

“What?” Chloe demanded. “Look, if this is some kind of prank-”

Another gunshot rang through the house, this time accompanied by the sound of something breaking. “They’re breaking down the door,” Jeremy realized. “Hide. Hide, now.”

“What about police?” Brooke started.

“God knows who those people have on their side, and we don’t have that long,” Rich said. “Like they said- best option is to split, hide.”

Like those words were a signal, a final shot sounded, and they knew the door had given. Jeremy didn’t linger to see where everyone went- some of his friends were going out the door, maybe some staying inside his room- before running himself, beelining straight for his father’s room, which was right next to his.

Mr. Heere was on a business trip out of town. Jeremy closed his dad’s door behind him as quietly as he could, and ran to the small walk-in closet inside the room. Because it was his house, he knew the best hiding places- a pang of guilt ran through him as he wondered why he didn’t share them with his friends- and the best place he knew was the attic.

Jeremy pulled a few coats aside, revealing a wooden panel set into the ceiling behind them. It seemed like something out of a Scooby Doo episode, and he pushed it aside, hoisting himself up into the narrow crawlspace. It seemed like it could only fit one person, anyway.

He replaced the wooden panel, and crawled a bit further into the space. Heart pounding, he waited.

Footsteps were clearly heard, even through the wall- the strides of what sounded like at least three heavy-set men running up the stairs, and arriving at their floor. Jeremy held his breath, flinching as he heard an unfamiliar voice yell.

“We know you’re here,” a man called. “Come out, and we won’t hurt you.”

“We can and will find you,” another added. “Better to just show yourselves.”

After a while, in which none of the teenagers revealed themselves, one of them sighed. “Guess it’s the hard way then.”

The next few minutes were the most nerve-wracking moments of Jeremy’s life. He stayed still, even though no one could see him, as he strained his ears to listen to anything that might have sounded.

The first one to be caught was Brooke. Jeremy knew this because he heard her scream, and heard one of the men yell, “Found one!”

“Let _go_ of me!” Brooke screamed. She sounded terrified and furious.

“Don’t make me knock you out,” the man threatened, and Jeremy’s friend went silent. He gritted his teeth, heart pounding in fear and dismay. He didn’t dare call the police- not when that required talking out loud, and every move or sound he made could lead to his capture.

From his hiding place, he could hear the man lead Brooke somewhere, as their sounds faded exponentially. She must have been hiding somewhere close to him.

A moment later, a yell sounded, and the hairs on Jeremy’s arm rose. _Rich._

“Get off of me, you stupid fuck!” his friend shouted, and even from a distance Jeremy heard the sound of a punch colliding with someone. He hoped to god it wasn’t Rich who’d gotten hurt. “Fuck you and your fucking pervert friends, get the motherfucking hell _off of me_!”

“That makes two,” the man called. Rich fell silent suddenly, and Jeremy inhaled sharply- what happened?

“Gagged the boy.”

 _Gagged._ At least he wasn’t hurt.

One by one, Jeremy had to listen as his friends were found and captured. His palms hurt from digging his nails into them, and the fact that he couldn’t see anything, that all he could do was listen to the sound of his friends screaming and pleading, made it all the worse.

 _Chloe. Jake. Jenna. Christine._ Each of them, dragged out of their hiding place and brought into where Jeremy assumed was his room. Blood welled up from his palms, wetting his skin. He exhaled quietly in pain, shaking them.

 _Michael. Where was Michael? Had he gotten caught?_ Jeremy hadn’t heard his yell, but he wasn’t sure.

After what seemed like an eternity, one of the men called, “I think that’s all of them.”

“Six kids.” Another man, who sounded like he was the leader, said, “Is that all of you?”

No one answered. Jeremy wasn’t sure if he was more relieved that Michael hadn’t been caught, or more like he wanted to vomit.

“I’m _asking_ you,” he said mildly, but one second later, Jeremy heard the sharp sound of a slap, and his gut tightened. Who was it, which one of his friends had gotten hurt-

A small beam of light was shining up from the floorboards of the attic. Jeremy seized on it, pressing his head to the floor and peering through the tiny gap.

It was a view into his room. A limited, small view, but a view nonetheless.

He was right. The men had brought his friends into his room, standing in a line in front of him. They were cuffed, and there was a man standing guard right outside his door, a gun in hand. Upon seeing the weapon, Jeremy felt sick- it felt horribly real, yet so much like some kind of nightmare. His friends could get hurt. Killed.

All the men were wearing sunglasses. None of them had any distinguishable features. Jeremy’s stomach twisted as he saw Chloe with her hand on the side of her cheek. That they’d _hit_ her, his friend, just a defenseless high-schooler-

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” the man said. Rich looked furious, the gag now apparently off of him, and the normally gentle and mild Christine looked as if she was about to kill. Not noticing any of this, he continued, “Now.”

Jeremy braced himself for whatever he was about to say- but whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been this.

“Which one of you is Jeremy Heere?”

He almost gasped before shoving a hand over his mouth. _What the fuck?_

Why would a shady group of men want anything to do with him? Maybe it was a different Jeremy Heere- someone way more powerful and dangerous, someone who warranted a group to break into his house and capture him. It wouldn’t be Jeremy Heere, geek and video game enthusiast. It _couldn’t_ be.

“We don’t know if this is a fake name or not,” the leader now said. “It could be you-” he pointed at Jake, “- or it could be you.” He leveled a finger at Brooke. “We’re taking no chances. Once Jeremy Heere turns themselves in, the rest of you can go free. So I’ll say it again. _Which one of you is Jeremy Heere?_ ”

When no one replied, his tone darkened considerably. “We can take all of you with us, is that what you want? You have _no_ idea who Jeremy really is, what they can do. What they _have_ done.”

What did that even _mean?_ Jeremy wasn’t dangerous at all. He’d done nothing dangerous- aside from the SQUIPs, and they were a whole new level of no-one-knows-they-exist- in his life. What would they want with him?

 _“Where is Jeremy Heere?”_ the man yelled, and Jeremy saw Jenna and Rich flinch. Pressing his advantage, the man continued yelling, his voice getting louder with each word. Rich looked as if he were about to throw a punch, or cry, or both.

Something caught the man’s eye, and he paused in his words. His gaze was trained on the floor, but Jeremy couldn’t see what exactly he was looking at. The leader straightened, and even from a distance, Jeremy could see his eyes glint.

“Where’s the seventh?” he demanded, and Jeremy blanched. _He knows._

“I’m not an idiot,” he continued. “Seven cups. Seven sets of cards. If he or she doesn’t step out right now, you’ll be sure to regret it.”

Seven cups- Christine's refusal for drinks. Seven sets of cards- Chloe hadn't wanted to play.

Jeremy’s throat seized up. Every instinct in his mind was chanting _go, go, go_ \- but his common sense told him to stay where he was. It wasn’t just because that selfish part of him didn’t want to get hurt- it was because he had no idea what they wanted with Jeremy Heere. With him.

But if he didn’t go-

The man grabbed Christine’s arm and yanked her out of the line. She yelped, struggling, but the man drew a gun from his waistband and flicked the safety off, pressing the muzzle against the side of her head.

“ _No,_ ” Jeremy heard Brooke cry out, and it was all he could think as well. _No. No. No._

“You have ten seconds to show yourself,” the leader yelled, projecting his voice clearly. “If you don’t, your friend dies. And I highly doubt she’s Jeremy Heere, although if she were, it’d better to have her dead than alive and free. Ten.”

Jeremy’s breath was starting to come in short, panicked bursts. He buried his face in his bloodied hands, shoulders shaking with each inhale and exhale.

“Nine.”

Against his better instinct, he crawled over quietly to the wooden panel. Heart pounding, he removed it.

“Eight.”

He was just about to lower himself to the floor when he heard a familiar voice call out, loud and clear, “I’m here.”

_No._

Jeremy scrambled back to his original spot, hastily replacing the panel, his mouth dry with dread. He pressed his eye to the crack, watching in horror as the scene played out. _No, no, no, no, no-_

_Michael._

His best friend had arrived. The window to Jeremy’s room was now open, and with a pang, Jeremy realized that Michael had been hiding _outside_ the house- on top of the slanted tile that was above his window. He and Michael used to climb out there as kids. They’d stopped when they got too big for both of them to fit.

But it was an amazing hiding place- a perfect one.

Michael looked unafraid- just irritated and angry. Of course, Jeremy knew him well enough to know that it was just a facade.

His hands were stuck in the pockets of his hoodie, and his headphones were still hanging around his neck. He walked towards the center of the room, where the man was still holding Christine captive.

“You can let her go now,” Michael said.

The man did, and Christine fell forward, tear tracks plain on her face. Jake reached out with his cuffed hands and quickly pulled her close, away from the man. Both of them were shaking.

“About time,” the man said. He didn’t put away his gun. “You can go stand next to your little friends. Now, I’ll ask one last time before someone gets hurt. Which one of you is Jerem-”

“I am,” Michael said. Jeremy’s body tensed- it felt like a jolt of electricity down his spine, ten times worse than anything the SQUIP could have done. His breaths were shallow, and he curled up in on himself. _Don’t do this, Michael. Please._

“I am Jeremy Heere,” Michael announced, saying it with no lack bravado and confidence, leaving no space for doubt. Wisely, none of the other teenagers reacted- they just looked dismayed, afraid.

“Jeremy Heere?” the man asked, scoffing slightly. “You?”

“Yes.”

The man turned to his partners. “Then what are you waiting for? Search him, disarm him, restrain him.”

One of the men nodded, and headed toward Michael, who made no move to back away. Jeremy watched in mute horror as the man patted his best friend down. Once he’d deemed Michael clear, he pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt and secured the boy’s hands behind his back.

“Let my friends go,” Michael said. Jeremy bit his lip- would they keep their word? Or would they just kill-

The leader jerked his chin at the teenagers, and his other partner went over to them. He didn’t seem to have a gun, but he had a small device in his hand. As Jeremy watched, the man grabbed Rich’s hand and pressed the device to his skin. Rich winced, and that’s when Jeremy realized that it was a blood tester.

Once the man finished testing everyone in the line, he faced his leader with a shocked look on his face. “Sir- they’ve all been SQUIPped, sir.”

Jeremy watched as the leader’s face turned from pissed to surprised to delighted. “You’re not shitting me, are you?”

“No, sir.”

“What is this, Christmas?” The man laughed. “Take them all.”

“No,” Michael said, tensing. “No-”

“You’ve got no say in this, Heere,” the leader spat. “Take them. All of them.”

“You _said_ you’d let them go-”

It happened almost too fast for Jeremy to catch- the man swung a fist, the hit colliding with the side of Michael’s face. Jeremy’s best friend stumbled back, his glasses knocked off his face and falling to the ground. Christine gasped, and matching looks of trepidation were on the others’ faces.

“Never believe everything you hear, kid,” the man said, shaking out his fist as Michael slowly straightened. A bruise was already starting to form around his eye, and Jeremy felt nauseous. Never had he felt so goddamn helpless. “Take them down to the cars. And if any one of you tries to run, another one of you gets shot.”

Feeling sick and horrified, Jeremy could only watch as the men forced his friends out of the room- and then they were out of sight, with only the distant sounds of fading footsteps the only sign that they were still in the house. A minute later, Jeremy heard the muted growl of car engines, and a revving sound as the cars drove off.

He waited for three minutes- the longest three minutes of his life. Then he kicked the wooden panel out of the way in a panic, nearly throwing himself out of the attic and landing painfully on the floor. Jeremy shoved out of the closet and out of his dad’s room, running into his own.

Nothing seemed out of the place. The cards were exactly as they left them, and the drinks were untouched. Even Jenna’s dropped phone was still on the ground. There was no sign that anything bad had ever happened.

Jeremy fumbled for his phone, dialing 9-1-1- before hesitating, and lowering his cell. Rich had been right- who knew who they had on their side? If he called in a case, especially a major kidnapping case such as this, they were going to want to know his name. And regardless of whether or not the police were trustworthy, this kind of information would have been easy to infiltrate and get.

And then his friends’ sacrifice would have been in vain.

Jeremy let his phone fall to his ground, and he followed a moment later, crumpling to his knees and letting the panic attack wash over him, taking deep, shaky breaths as he struggled to calm himself. He felt tears gathering at the back of his eyes, but they didn’t flow.

 _There was no sign that anything bad had ever happened_.

It was just as if all of Jeremy’s friends had just… vanished into thin air. As if they’d never been.

Something caught his vision in the corner of his eye, and Jeremy turned to look at it.

Michael’s glasses, with one of the lenses cracked from its fall.

A sob tore out of Jeremy’s body, his shoulders shaking as he curled in on himself, and finally allowed his tears to fall.

—

_**two years later** _

Jeremy huddled in on himself, trying his best to hide under his hoodie as he walked down the hall of his new school, towards the exit. He’d transferred in two years ago, right after- after the incident.

The thought of it still brought on mental breakdowns. Jeremy cringed at the memory, the tangible fear and horror that was associated with it. He’d pleaded and begged for his dad for him to transfer schools the moment he’d come back from his business trip- they’d had to be even more economically conservative than they already were in order to afford a new school and a new house, but they’d done it.

He’d told his father most of what had happened- at least, the bare necessities of it. That Michael and the rest of his friends had been captured, and he’d been lucky enough to escape.

His father had been horrified, but had trusted Jeremy when he’d pleaded for him to not call the cops on it. Even trusted him enough when Jeremy had told him that he wanted to enroll under a new name.

“Will!” someone now shouted. Jeremy turned at the sound of the name all his peers and teachers now knew him by, and saw one of his classmates waving at him. He waved back, and continued on his way.

It was a few days until graduation. Jeremy couldn’t wait, although the idea brought on even more wistful sadness- Michael and he were supposed to go to college together. The fact that he’d even made it to graduation was shocking in and of itself. There were moments when Jeremy had wanted to just give up.

But he hadn’t.

Because he’d sworn to himself that no matter what it took, he was going to find his friends.

So he’d trudged on. Lived under a new name, coping with life.

Jeremy pushed open the doors to his school and started on the road home. He walked alone, as he always did. He hadn’t made any new friends, hadn’t talked with anymore more than necessary. He spent most of his time thinking about that night, and going over the possibilities of who might have taken his friends.

It had something to do with the SQUIP. That was certain. They’d taken the rest of his friends because they’d all been SQUIPped, however temporarily. So that means they’d taken Michael under the guise of taking Jeremy because…

Because he was the first one to get rid of it? Because his had nearly taken over the school?

Jeremy didn’t know. There were too many things that he didn’t know.

For all he knew, his friends were dead. For all he knew, he’d indirectly killed them all.

He arrived at his house- his new house. Jeremy gazed up at it- it was smaller than their old one, but hopefully it had thrown whoever was after him off of his path.

Something caught his eye. A package, set next to the front door of their house. Jeremy went over to it and picked it up- it was small, slightly bigger than his palm. The only odd thing about it was that there was no address written on it. How would they have known where to deliver it?

Unlocking the door, Jeremy entered his house and dumped his backpack on the floor, heading straight for his room. He examined the package, and opened it.

A note fell out.

He picked it up and his eyes widened. He recognized the handwriting, even if it was messier than normal- as if whoever was writing had been in a rush. Like they were running from something.

Jeremy read the note, easily deciphering the hasty scrawl.

_Player 2,_

_I’m not dead._

_Play the tape._

_\- 1_

Jeremy felt tears pricking at the back of his eyes. If this was real…

Michael. He was alive.

He reached into the box and retrieved a cassette tape. Going over to a player that Michael had gotten him for his fifteenth birthday, Jeremy shoved it in with shaking hands and pressed play.

He almost sobbed as he heard his best friend’s voice for the first time in two years- deeper, whispered in a hurry, but it was Michael. Joy coursed through his body, along with the sharper, cooling sense of relief.

That faded quickly though, as Jeremy listened to what his friend was saying. It was hard to make out between all of the static, but he managed.

 _“Not dead. … Be careful. Still looking for you.”_ Static, then a rushed, _“They’re okay. On the run.”_ A pause, a sound like something had been dropped, then, quietly, _“Japan. … Kyoto.”_ A final silence, Michael’s harsh breaths audible. _“Don’t blame yourself. Meet me- meet me there. They know.”_

That was it.

Three hours later, Jeremy had a confused dad, a packed bag, and a ticket to Kyoto, Japan. For the first time in two years, he felt rejuvenated, motivated. For the first time in two years, he felt hopeful.

He was going to get his friends back.


End file.
